THE HUMMING BIRD
IT comes! This strange bird from a distant climeHas fled with arrowy speed on fluttering wing.From the sweet south, all sick of revelling,It wanders hitherward to rest a time,And taste the hardy flora of the west.And now, O joy! the urchins hear the mirthOf its light wings, and crouch unto the earthIn watchful eagerness, contented, blest.Bird of eternal summers! thou dost wake,Whene'er thou comest and where'er thou art,A new born gladness in my swelling heart.Go, gentle flutterer, my blessing take!Less like a bird thou hast appeared to meThan some sweet fancy in old poesy.
IT comes! This strange bird from a distant climeHas fled with arrowy speed on fluttering wing.From the sweet south, all sick of revelling,It wanders hitherward to rest a time,And taste the hardy flora of the west.And now, O joy! the urchins hear the mirthOf its light wings, and crouch unto the earthIn watchful eagerness, contented, blest.Bird of eternal summers! thou dost wake,Whene'er thou comest and where'er thou art,A new born gladness in my swelling heart.Go, gentle flutterer, my blessing take!Less like a bird thou hast appeared to meThan some sweet fancy in old poesy.
IT comes! This strange bird from a distant climeHas fled with arrowy speed on fluttering wing.From the sweet south, all sick of revelling,It wanders hitherward to rest a time,And taste the hardy flora of the west.And now, O joy! the urchins hear the mirthOf its light wings, and crouch unto the earthIn watchful eagerness, contented, blest.
IT comes! This strange bird from a distant clime
Has fled with arrowy speed on fluttering wing.
From the sweet south, all sick of revelling,
It wanders hitherward to rest a time,
And taste the hardy flora of the west.
And now, O joy! the urchins hear the mirth
Of its light wings, and crouch unto the earth
In watchful eagerness, contented, blest.
Bird of eternal summers! thou dost wake,Whene'er thou comest and where'er thou art,A new born gladness in my swelling heart.Go, gentle flutterer, my blessing take!Less like a bird thou hast appeared to meThan some sweet fancy in old poesy.
Bird of eternal summers! thou dost wake,
Whene'er thou comest and where'er thou art,
A new born gladness in my swelling heart.
Go, gentle flutterer, my blessing take!
Less like a bird thou hast appeared to me
Than some sweet fancy in old poesy.